Demiurge
by hikachu
Summary: As promised, Battler is writing a new tale for himself and Beato, but she wants to make sure that the pervert will give her a fitting role even if it means... being extra-nice to him. PWP; loosely based on the GM BATTLER TIP; post EP6.


"Heeey, Battleeeer~ What are you dooooiiiing?"

The Golden Witch entered the study almost dancing, with a cheerful expression on her face. Battler had to wince both at the noise that the door made as it slammed against the wall and Beatrice's voice.

"I was working on the next game," he replied with a frown. It wasn't like the quill he was holding and the papers scattered everywhere didn't make it already obvious enough.

With the same enthusiasm, she closed the door and walked over to him. "I bet you're really tired, aren't you? Weaving a new tale can be exhausting… I know that well."

Battler eyed her innocent smile suspiciously.

"Beato. What do you want?"

Beatrice's expression faltered for a second. "Wha, What are you talking about? Nothing, of course. I-I just… wanted to ask if I could help with something… H-Hey, what's that look? I'm not planning anything, I swear!"

"Really…" Battler looked at her for what felt like a long, long minute, before his guarded expression turned into a mischievous grin. "Well then. I've been working reeeaaaally hard since this morning and y'know, a massage would be nice now…"

"A… massage…?" The witch blinked. Naturally, she had never given one to anyone and ah, so the idiot was going to take advantage of this…!, but… it wasn't like she had any other choice. She had to make sure that this pervert wouldn't disgrace her with a ridiculous role or some obscene outfit in the next game, after all.

"Beato…?"

"M-Mu… Alright!" she replied. "You'd better be grateful for this," she said as her hands grasped his shoulders. "You're the first person to receive a massage from the Endless Witch."

And Battler could easily figure out why. He couldn't tell if it was because of her enthusiasm or if she was just that graceless, but this was _painful_.

"O-Oi—"

"Hmm~? What is iiit?" she chirped, leaning forward to look at him, her chin almost touching his hair.

It was then that Battler realized that, after all… there _was_ something good about this whole situation.

"Ihihi… I guess using you as a body pillow would've been a better idea."

Beatrice blinked once, twice, not understanding. Then, she slowly realized what was going on: the incompetent idiot was leaning back, using her chest as a pillow.

"… Y-You—!"

"Tsk, tsk. You'd better stop before you say something you'll regret later." She was obviously angry, anyone could have _seen_ it: the way she was gritting her teeth, the furrowed brows, the reddened cheeks… "I know why you're here."

She froze and at the same time, she didn't think she had ever wanted to slap him so badly. The tone he had used—and that smug expression…! So he had known since the beginning and was just making fun of her, huh? Hah, she was so going to make him pay…!

"If you want to make me pay, you'll have to wait until the end of the new game. Unless you want me to give you a new dress—something less old-fashioned and more minimal. Not even witches from manga and anime wear this stuff anymore—"

And in spite of all her best intentions, Beato exploded. "Don't you dare—"

"Ah. What's that, Beato? Maybe it's that attitude of yours that I should fix, huh? Seeing your cute side once in a while would be nice."

How much she wanted to tear him into pieces and revive him over and over again, right now…!

"W, What are you talking about? H-Hmph, are you saying that usually I'm not cute? There is nothing to fix…!"

Battler's annoying grin became even more annoying. "You sure? Ihihi… After all this time, you can't fool me anymore. I know that even if you act like this, deep down you lo—"

"Just shut up!" Beatrice screamed, dissolving into a cloud of golden butterflies. Battler snickered. Even if she behaved so shamelessly and spoke in such a crass way, Beato could easily get embarrassed, if you knew which buttons to push.

Perhaps on a different day he would have let her go, but what sort of man would have wasted this opportunity? And so, after a snap of his fingers, the witch found herself in the same room again.

"You are forgetting who's the Territory Lord now… Besides, you want me to be nice to you, right Beato? Then, continuing with that massage would be enough… to make me consider it. But before you start again… there's a couple things that we should reeeaaaally fix!" he chuckled. "First of all, that dress of yours! Like I said, you need to wear something more… refreshing and up-to-date to make the tale more exciting…!"

"I don't care about tha—Hey! Just what is _this_?" Golden butterflies had once again gathered around her body, turning her usual dress into a red outfit with a poofy knee-length skirt and a frilly white apron.

"Hah? That's really a weird question, considering that it's coming from a pervert like you!" Battler threw an appreciative glance at the low neckline of her dress. "Naturally someone as lewd as you can fully understand why, for a man, having a cute girl massage his shoulders dressed up as a maid is so appealing, riiight, Beato?"

His self-confident grin, however, disappeared quickly when he realized what, exactly, he had said. "Of course, it's not like _you_'re that cute… it's just this outfit that makes you look… younger—kinda nice. Just a bit, though."

"Baaattleeeerrr—! I'm going to—"

"Tsk, tsk," there he was, already grinning again like an idiot, Beato thought. "Aren't you forgetting something? Wouldn't calling me 'Battler-sama' be more appropriate in this sort of situation?"

The witch looked at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head, shook her head and chuckled. "Someone is getting too arrogant; should I teach you your place agaiiin?"

Battler sighed. His smile didn't falter. "Ahh, it's no good, no good at all…! Shouldn't I be the one asking you that, Beato? Ihihihi, someone really has forgotten who is the Territory Lord now, huh? Maybe in the next game I should have you prancing around with these clothes—ah, of course I'll need to shorten the skirt and maybe change your hairstyle into something more childish…"

"You, You aren't serious, are you, Batt—"

He clicked his tongue. "What did I tell you?"

"… Ku…!"

"So…?"

"D, Don't do that,"

"_Please_."

"…Please."

"Good. And then…?"

"… Ba… Battler… sama…"

"Ihihihihi… See, that wasn't so difficult, right, Beato?" Face completely red, she glared at him and, for the first time today, he was merciful enough to pretend he hadn't noticed. "You know, Beato, maybe I should have you massage my shoulders tonight—yeah, that way you can wash my back and help me relax at the same time… Ah, I'm such a genius, don't you agree, Beato?"

All she wanted to say was: no, you are an idiot, a dog that needs to be trained again. Instead what she said was: "Yes, Battler-sama."

"Ihihi, you're learning fast!" Oh, how she hated that stupid, arrogant laugh…! "Let's see… what could I ask for now…"

The witch grinned inwardly at that. A naïve idiot like Battler would most likely make some conceited request and give her an occasion to switch their roles without even noticing. He was too proud and got drunk with power too easily (to think that this undignified Sorcerer had even inherited her title…!).

It was hard, to hold back a cackle when he finally ordered: "Why don't you kiss my shoes? Since you're into that weird stuff, you should enjoy this, right?"

Battler was too naïve sometimes – it was true. Which was why he was so taken aback by Beato's reaction: after all, it hadn't been a serious request—well, not _completely_, at least. He had expected her to refuse and insult him until he'd get tired and give up. Instead, Beatrice only threw him one last glance and then dropped to her knees. Her reddened cheeks and the way she bit her lower lip reminded Battler of a kid who, even after much pleading, has been denied the toy she wanted so much.

And yet, there she was, kneeling in front of him, her forehead almost touching the cold marble floor. Battler leant a bit forward to have a better view of the scene and swallowed thickly when Beatrice's lips touched his shoes.

He opened his mouth to speak, laugh, tell her, hey, you can get up now, but all he could manage was a weak, awkward smile and then that smile also died and disappeared when he felt her mouth on his ankle and saw her hands crawl up his legs a bit shakily, stopping only to rest on his thighs as her fingers grasped the fabric of his slacks, nails scratching lightly the flesh underneath.

At that point, Battler knew he was blushing: part of him felt a bit ashamed, but mostly, he felt fascinated and found this incredibly hot. And the shame and the insecurities all vanished when the witch's mouth started dropping openmouthed kisses on his still clothed leg. Her intentions became clear when she nibbled playfully on the inside of his thigh and her hands moved to undo the front of this pants—Battler threw his head back and almost gave in, when he finally understood what she was trying to do—

"Oi, Beato, isn't this a little too forward? Aren't you supposed to do what your master says?" he said, breathlessly, but grinning. It was difficult to keep a confident, teasing tone, especially with Beato's breath ghosting over his still clothed erection, but he had to do this, right? After all, the rules were that he'd get to order her around for now… and he couldn't let her gain control over him, especially when she was trying to do it so slyly, using his weak spots as a man to trick him.

Beatrice's expression was priceless. Obviously, she had thought that her plan would work. Battler snickered as she clicked her tongue and looked away. Ahh, so cute…! "You underestimated me, Beato. Bossing you around is too much fun to let this chance go to waste… but, ihihi, refusing you when you're so eager to please me would be a terrible waste too, wouldn't it? After all, most of the time you act like an insufferable crazy hag, so this is reeeaaally a rare treat…! I wonder what should I make you do then…" Battler seemed to consider something carefully for a couple moments, then he smiled in a way that the witch didn't like at all. "You see, Beato, since I'm such a generous master, I've decided to let you do just what you wanted…! Ihihihi, that's right, if you're really that eager to please me I won't stop you. There's only one tiiiny, insignificant rule that you absolutely can't break: no matter what, you can't touch yourself; naturally, I'm not going to touch you either. After all, you wanted to do something for me, right?"

Beatrice shivered. She had been expecting something like this, and yet… hearing it made her heart race.

"Beato…?"

Ah, she knew what he wanted from her now. "Y, Yes… Battler… sama…" her voice trembled.

And Beatrice was also trembling as she watched her hands fumble again with the front of his pants. It wasn't out of some sort of bashfulness though: there was, instead, some anger for her wounded pride, and mostly… mostly, it was just the way Battler was talking to her, the feeling of being controlled by him that made her shiver so badly. While she would have never admitted it openly, Beato enjoyed this and didn't mind not being the one in control once in a while: partly because she _was_ twisted in her own way, and partly because she loved Battler, just the thought of being able to please him while being dominated by him made her wet. Tugging at his boxers, Beatrice hoped, at the same time, that he would and that he wouldn't find out. If Battler noticed, her already tattered pride would be torn to shreds, yes, but… being teased by him, now, would have been so—

Battler hissed loudly when her fingertips touched his erection: barely perceptible at first, and then applying more pressure, lingering longer on his burning skin in a series of bold but delicate caresses – teasing him and reversing their roles would have been easy now, but she couldn't, not this time. The eternal struggle that was their relationship had rules that changed every time with every different situation and no matter what, they couldn't be broken, because… they trusted each other. Even at a time like this, when she was being treated like… furniture.

"Ah, hey… how long will you make me wait… you idiot?" Battler was breathing heavily but he still managed to keep himself from sounding desperate.

The witch scowled and almost replied with one of her usual retorts—_almost_. Instead, she continued to stroke him with her left hand, using the other to tug at the sleeves of her dress and exposing her shoulders, then her chest.

Battler sucked in a sharp breath both at the feeling of her lips kissing the tip of his cock and the sight of her bare breasts. Beato had no idea how long he had fantasized about seeing her like this, about touching and being touched by her… She didn't know how much of a turn on were even just her flushed cheeks and the quiet noises she made as she continued to kiss him.

And Battler didn't think he could last much longer when he felt her breasts softly squeezing his erection, her mouth now closed around its tip as her tongue lapped at its underside.

"Hnnn…!" Beato made a low sound, almost as if she were choking, when Battler's hips twitched violently and he thrust himself into the warmth of her mouth; he groaned when he felt her supple mounds stroking him as he moved forward.

"Be, Beato… I…" he wasn't sure what he wanted to say: there was so much going on his mind and the only thing he could grasp was how he regretted their position at the moment—he wanted to be able to touch her too, to make her moan… But then again, this was so good that he never wanted her to stop.

His hands left the armrests and, shakily, they touched her hair, her face; his fingertips clumsily traced her forehead, her ears, her cheeks. Beatrice's tongue moved with more and more eagerness every time Battler expressed his pleasure through his voice; the blush on her cheeks deepened visibly and she even let out a muffled moan: it looked like she was getting off on his reactions, on the knowledge that she was the one causing them, and at the same time, her inability to pleasure herself both frustrated and excited her more.

Even when one of her hands finally slid down between her legs, Beatrice did it out of curiosity, almost hoping that he would stop her. And Battler did.

"… Tch… y, you're really getting old… already forgetting the rules…!"

Mind barely coherent, he pressed both of his hands to the back of hers, nails sinking into the soft flesh of her breasts as he encouraged her to quicken her pace.

He wasn't really doing anything but at this point, just his warmth, just being touched by him, was enough to make Beatrice sigh and whimper; her mouth left him almost at once and she muttered his name: "Battler… Battler, please…!" but she never finished that sentence, too wrapped up in her feelings.

Hearing her voice like that pushed Battler over the edge, and after a few sharp thrusts, he came between her tits, spilling himself all over her chest and her hands, and—it took him a bunch of long, long moments to catch his breath and become aware of his surroundings again, and then, still panting, Battler saw the thick, pearly drops covering her face and dripping from her chin. He felt himself blush again when Beatrice blinked, once, twice, and then licked tentatively her lips.

"Beato…! You…!" he looked away (he knew he'd get a nosebleed if he continued to stare, and besides, getting all excited again soon after _that_ would have been a bit embarrassing) and grabbed a napkin from the table. "Here, here; don't move, you pervert."

Keeping still as Battler cleaned her face, Beato wanted to ask who really was the pervert between them. It wasn't like he seemed to mind the view or anything she had done so much, after all.

"Alright, alright; all done now."

A-All done? He couldn't possibly be thinking of leaving her like this, right…? She wouldn't allow it, and so she climbed onto his lap.

"Mu… w, what about me…?" the witch asked pouting, her lower lip sticking out a little in a childish manner.

Now that he looked at her closely, Battler could see that she was still breathing heavily and her face was still red. He could even feel her heart pounding against his chest.

A mischievous grin slowly spread across his lips.

"Ihihihi, I guess I could take care of you… if you call me Battler-sama and do what I say for a whole week!"

"Mu… So… So cruel," her breath hitched when his fingers slid under her skirt and into her drenched panties.

"No no no, that's not a valid answer, Beato~" the lightest touch was enough to make her shudder. "So, what is it, yes or no?"

"Y, Yes…"

"Ah, aren't you forgetting something?" another touch, a kiss on the neck…

… Beato laughed and weakly shook her head. "Yes," she smirked, "Battler-sama."


End file.
